Mother’s Day (more properly, Mothering Sunday) is an occasion when it really is the thought that counts. You can give your mother a bunch of daffodils and a home-made card, and tea in bed if you live at home, and, unless your mother is Cruella de Vil, it’ll make her day. When I was a child I used to rob the daffodils from people’s gardens in the country. Now, at a pound a bunch, you really don’t have to. Just buy lots … they look fabulous in quantity.
But if you are going to spend money – and it’s not obligatory – then you may as well get something good that she’ll actually like. I’m getting tetchy at the retail sexism out there. If you believe the advertising, the gist is, to make mothers happy, you need something pink, something floral, with a bubbly beverage. Plus chocolate, again in pink.
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